


there was a reason i collided into you

by sockslwt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, I'm so sorry, M/M, Pining, Sick!Harry, Strangers to Friends, again i'm so sorry, also i use excessive amounts of the word fuck and italicized words, and a lot of pining, friends?? they talk... it's a thing, i don't know how to tag things, i swear it's just a cold don't panic he's okay, i'm so dumb, it's just a lot of fluff, louis taking care of sick!harry, louisandharry are neighbors that meet in a lift, one day harry doesn't show up at the lift and louis panics, they talk a lot and louis pines, this is really dumb i'm sorry, zero angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:54:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3063449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockslwt/pseuds/sockslwt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>You see, it's a thing now for them, but they don't even realize it. A constant routine of meeting up at the elevator in the mornings, talking about whatever comes to mind so god forsaken early in the morning and then repeating the routine again at night with the bonus of groceries (which means amazing, mouth watering leftovers at Louis' door the next morning) or a sweaty Harry in blinding neon sneakers that remind Louis of a highlighter. </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>It's a thing and even if neither realize it, they appreciate every morning and evening they get to see each other. </em></p><p> </p><p>OR</p><p>AU where Louis and Harry are neighbors who meet in the elevator of their apartment one morning and it becomes a routine for them. Louis pines a lot. Then one day, Harry doesn't show up at the elevator like he usually does, and well, Louis might panic.</p><p> </p><p>(title is a lyric from the song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzR8BCmV9Ew">'Here with Me'</a> by Susie Suh + Robert Koch)</p>
            </blockquote>





	there was a reason i collided into you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lumineres](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumineres/gifts).



> I found this AU prompt [(x)](http://feelinqblue.tumblr.com/post/109436062677/so-i-did-a-thing-and-tried-to-write-this-into-a) off Tumblr and I followed it almost exactly except instead of it being a year, it's only a month because I'm lazy and had an idea about Thanksgiving at the time. I really really hope Sophie ([xfactorera](http://xfactorera.tumblr.com) on tumblr) likes this since it was her prompt. 
> 
> Note: this is my first fic, so please just keep that in mind. Also it's not as long as I thought it would be, but it is a oneshot and it covers the majority of the prompt. I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all like it! ♥
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** This piece is a work of **fiction**. I am not affiliated with One Direction or the characters in this story and none of this is based on true events blah blah blah.

 

**Monday 11/03/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

_6:15_

Louis stretches out his limbs with a few loud, resounding cracks and pops as he rolls over in bed, hitching the covers up to his chin. His room is freezing with the lack of a heater in his apartment for the weekend as the maintenance refuses to turn the heat on until at least Thanksgiving, which is _bullshit_ thank you very much - it's 30° (-1° C) out and he'd really rather not feel like he's living in the fucking North Pole for another week. He feels chilly all over despite the sunshine pouring in through the window - his cheeks sting from being a rosy shade from the touch of cold air, his feet even clad in fuzzy socks cold as miniature icebergs (which, who wears socks to bed honestly? but he was  _desperate)_ , and even better, his blankets have absorbed all the cold. Louis has several hundred complaints running through his head such as, who made these god damn blankets and why is it not cozy and warm like it was last night, why are his toes about to fall off despite the fuzzy socks he's wearing, why the hell does maintenance insist on waiting until Thanksgiving to turn on the heat, and why is it so damn bright in his room?

He slowly peels his eyes open, trying to pry his top eyelashes from the bottom ones, rubbing away at the crusted sleep. It's too bright. So, so bright and his alarm hasn't even gone off yet. His alarm hasn't gone off yet. Alarm. Louis flies up and flings his arm out to the bedside table, smacking down on the wood blindly until he grabs his phone. Preparing for the worst and already in panic mode, he lights up the screen to realize that it's 6:17 in the morning. 6:17 as in, he hasn't overslept his alarm; no, in fact, he's nearly an hour early. Great.

With a loud sigh, Louis flops back down on his pillow, his hair fanning out and falling over his eyes. He turns, facing the tall window to his right that's currently the source of the godforsaken bright light illuminating his room. Of course he forgot to close the curtains last night and of course it would wake him up at fucking 6 o'clock in the morning. He shoves the blankets off and makes a quick run for the window, throws the curtains closed, and dives back to the bed and under the covers, hoping for another solid hour of sleep.

Only, now he's wide awake and fucking freezing is the thing.

With another glance at the time, - now 6:20 - he decides he might as well get out of bed and take a hot shower because if the building won't put on the heat, Louis has to generate warmth somehow. But he'd be damned if he didn't do that with a bunch of mumbles of discontent because really, Louis isn't a morning person.

"Fucking window. Fucking bright. And fucking cold. Fucking maintenance."

 

❀

 

_7:23_

Louis normally leaves his apartment at 8:00 and walks the fifteen minutes to work and manages to be in his cubicle (which he despises) and settled by 8:20 which is five minutes before the actually necessary 8:25 arrival time. His routine has been perfected and now he's gone and fucked it up by leaving the curtains open and well, now he has an extra thirty-seven minutes.

He's quite literally bouncing around on the balls of his feet, freshly showered, completely dressed, hair styled perfectly, his bag is all packed up, and he even made himself a bagged lunch for the first time since maybe high school and he's got nothing to do. Louis would make himself a cuppa, except his idiot best mate (who he's incredibly fond of, don't let his grumpiness fool you) Zayn finished it off without telling him and he hasn't had time to restock.

It's too cold to do much else, so Louis pulls on a pair of gloves, tosses his backpack straps onto his shoulders (don't you dare tell him he's too old and "mature" for those despite his job) and huffs as he decides to leave early and go to the coffee shop along the way to work.

 

❀

 

"HI! WAIT! HEY! PLEASE HOLD THE DOOR! Shit, he's going to let it close god damn it. Fucking worst morning of my lif-"

"Oops! Sorry mate, here!"

Louis races down the rest of the hall to the elevator and runs in just in time. He looks up with a soft smile, slightly out of breath to see the most beautiful human being ever. The air gets sucked right back out of his lungs in a gasp of sorts and the man -- the beautiful, long curly-haired, emerald eyed, long legged, lean, _beautiful_ fucking man laughs out an actual giggle. A giggle. Jesus.

"Hey, breathe! It's alright you've made it. You good?" Another giggle.

And _wow_. His voice is just as beautiful as he is. All dark, deep, smooth, slow, almost like velvet and wow. Louis is definitely not even sure he's real or even human for that matter because, well, wow.

"Uh... mate?"

Right. Yeah, Louis' been starring and that's not normal at all. Of course. Right. _Damn it._

"Oh.. uhh.. I.. um... hi. Yeah, I'm good sorry. Guess I'm a bit more out of shape than I thought. Thanks."

The man smiled and pointed at the lobby button with a quirk to his eyebrow. With a nod from Louis, he pressed the button and shuffled to the left so Louis could settle to the right of the lift and they could go down.

Okay, so maybe waking up just a bit earlier wasn't such a bad thing after all.

 

❀

 

Louis' day only gets worse after his boss, Liam, assigns him a new article assignment.

Louis loves Liam, really he does, but he only has a few days to write the new article and it requires so much research and Louis loves writing but research is not at all fun.

Louis wants to be a published author, not just any person who gets an article posted in the newspaper every so often. He wants to write stories with made up plots and characters, with romance and angst, and he wants to write _books_ ; be a _published_ author. Writing for a newspaper seemed to be the best of both worlds, but really, Louis hates research and Louis hates Liam for assigning him such tough articles. He really has little time to write what he wants, but he's trying. 

"It's because you're good!" "It's because he wants you to improve on research skills!" "It's because he trusts you!" are the excuses he gets constantly from Zayn and even Liam himself sometimes, but either way it's not going to be a fun week.

And so Louis works and works and works. He collects statistics and facts, calls reliable sources for interviews, collects a mass amount of quotes from local people, psychology majors, and the like.

Hours later, and a good three hours later than the time Louis normally would quit for the day, the office is closed except for a few lost souls working their bums off to finish up last minute edits, preparation, or research like Louis. He's collected some solid information, but only from one side and his article can't be biased no matter how desperate Louis is to argue the already researched side of the topic himself. Louis still has so much research left, but he knows he can't possibly keep his eyes open much longer, and so he packs up his shuffled papers and leaves the office, starting the, now even colder, walk back to the apartment complex.

 

❀

 

Normally, Louis would cherish walking into a building after his walk home, but the sad truth is that the building is still just as cold as it was this morning and is probably the same as the temperature outside.

Louis shuffles to the elevator and bounces on his heels trying to keep warm. He shoves his gloved hands into his pocket, tucks his chin under the zipped collar of his jacket and thinks only of getting to his apartment and into his bed as soon as possible.

A pair of feet scuttle up next to him and stand waiting for the elevator too. Louis notices the brown, suede boots and nods in approval. They're quirky and Louis could never wear them himself, but he likes them.

So, he says so.

"I like your shoes," he starts off as he looks up to face none other than elevator boy from earlier this morning.

The man smiles gently and nods before scuffing his feet on the floor.

"Thanks! Uh.. fancy running into you again huh? Twice in one day!"

Louis nods and lets the man step into the elevator first when the doors slide open before muttering, "My lucky day."

"What's that mate?"

Louis snaps up and notices a faint rosy color tinting the mans cheeks. Just the cold. Definitely just the cold.

"Uh.. I mean to run into a fellow Englishman. Or I mean, at least I assume right? You don't sound like you're from the states."

_Smooth._

"Oh! Yeah, right. You're right, I'm from northern England."

Louis internally thanks whatever helped him get away with such an idiotic slip of the tongue and replies, "Figured something like that. Whereabouts?"

"Cheshire."

The doors slide open again on their floor - the only time Louis will ever regret choosing to live on the first floor is the fact that these shared elevator rides are so, so short.

"I grew up in Doncaster, meself. In Yorkshire."

Harry nods and waves off as he goes the opposite way down the hall.

"Cool! Have a nice night!"

Louis nods and watches a bit before turning around and heading to his own room.

And although Louis would never admit it, he realizes that maybe working late wasn't so bad if it meant running into the Cheshire lad for the second time that day.

 

❀

 

**Tuesday 11/04/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

 

The next morning Louis' alarm goes off at 6:20 and he's up and out of bed as fast as he can, actually excited to get ready for the day for once.

This time he doesn't bounce around on his heels waiting around aimlessly. Instead, he peeks out of his door through the peephole in search of a certain head of chocolaty curls. When he does spot them, he checks the time - 7:20 and steps out of his door as the man presses the down button.

He walks over slowly as the door slides open and throws the man a smile as he steps into the elevator behind him. The man presses the lobby button this time with only a small quirk of his eyebrow towards Louis in question again to make sure.

As the doors slide closed the man shuffles his feet, almost like a nervous habit Louis notices, and mutters out, "Second day in a row, funny huh? Don't think I've seen you around before yesterday if I'm honest."

"Yeah, funny that. I actually just made a bit of a change in my schedule, so I leave the apartment just a bit earlier than I used to. And last night I was working late. Quite an odd coincidence though."

It's not a lie. Louis _did_ in fact work late last night, so bumping into him was accidental and Louis _did_ actually change his schedule around so he _does_ plan on leaving this little bit earlier each morning. But the man beside him being the reason for this slight schedule change is totally false and if it's true, (which it's _so_ not by the way) is nobody's business but Louis' own.

"Oh that's cool! Maybe I'll see you around again soon then? I usually head out around this time."

"Yeah, that's definitely a possibility!" The doors slide open and there's an awkward pause before Louis mumbles out, "oh, uh, have a great day mate!"

And with yet another tiny smirk, the man walks off.

 

❀

 

"Liam, are you sure this article has to be due by Thursday?"

"Lou, I'm sorry I know you're working hard and this article isn't easy and it's a lot of research, but _my_ boss wants this in by Friday which means I need to have Thursday afternoon to edit. I know it's a tight schedule, but I know you can do it! I trust you."

And there it is. Fucking trust. Fucking Liam.

From then on out, Louis works methodically to get the second half of the information - or as Louis calls it, the bullshit ignorance - collected and organized. Louis really hates this aspect of his job; the need to have both sides even if he thinks that one side is just so, incredibly, irrevocably wrong and ignorant.

Phone call, after phone call, and research paper, after research paper, and article, after dumb fucking article and Louis has collected the information for both sides. Now he's overly frustrated with humans in general and has the option to either leave work for today, an hour later than he normally leaves, or stay another two hours or so like he had last night and organize which information he'll use and how.

Louis glances around the office - the majority of the cubicles dark, actual offices locked and abandoned. It's quiet, which is nice for a change.

He figures he might as well just get it over with, it's not _that_ late after all, and it would help him work more effectively tomorrow, especially since it's quiet so he can get a lot more done tonight than he ever could with Zayn moping about trying to talk to him. And so what if he hopes to run into a certain curly haired man again on the way home? That's really just a bonus. Really. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Honest.

 

❀

 

Turns out working late paid off when Louis bumps into Cheshire elevator boy (god he needs his name) again waiting for the elevator. Not that Louis was hoping for that... nope.

"Hey! It's you again. Should I be worried that you're stalking me?" The man laughs, obviously kidding, but if only he knew. But Louis isn't stalking. He isn't.

"Oh shit, you've caught me.. and to think I thought I was being sly about it. Figuring out your schedule and all that, working my schedule around it. You're a clever one."

So maybe there was more truth to that than elevator boy realized, but that's definitely not his concern.

The man giggles softly and steps into the elevator and pushes the first floor button so that it glows a pale orangey-yellow.

"Working hard and late again?"

As if on cue, Louis yawns widely, and nods sheepishly. He tugs at the sleeves of his jumper, creating sweater paws around his tiny hands and slumps a bit, hoping he doesn't look too tired, but really, he's exhausted. 

"I work for the newspaper and my boss assigned a huge article - front cover actually - that's due by Thursday. It's worse than it sounds trust me. No really, it's awful, stop smiling."

Louis really hoped he didn't actually stop smiling - he had a lovely smile. 

He didn't stop smiling.

"No, stop, that sounds huge! Congrats! That's really awesome, don't try to undermine that! And, um,. I've been working late this week too. Normally I get off around four, but my coworker is out until Monday and I have to cover his shifts."

"Ouch. Where do you work?"

The door slides open and the two men step out, but wait and finish up their conversation which Louis definitely appreciates.

"The library slash bakery down the block. My friend and I essentially run it now that Mrs. Witherspoon is getting too old to work for the entire day on her own."

"Oh.." Of course he works at Mrs. Witherspoon's adorable, old, cozy library with the bakery off the side. Of course. That just so happens to be Louis' favorite bookstore around and he always used to visit Mrs. Witherspoon during his Uni years to read off all the stress that he endured in school. Of course. Of fucking course elevator boy worked at his Uni happy place. "That's really lovely of you to help her out. She's such a sweet old lady."

"Yeah, she's really the best. Well anyways, good luck with your article!"

"Yeah, thanks!"

And with that, they both walk off.

 

❀

 

**Wednesday 11/05/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

 

"Morning mate! Just in time, the elevators on its way up."

Louis smirks a knowing smile (he had watched the man press the button from his peephole again, but no one had to know that and if anyone asks, Louis will in fact deny such horrendous accusations. Louis Tomlinson is no love struck infatuated sap).

"Great thanks! By the way, considering we'll probably be at this for a while, I should probably introduce myself. I'm Louis."

"M'Harry. Live down on that end of the hall. Apartment 112 to be exact."

"124."

Louis extends his hand out to Harry - _finally_ a name for the pretty face - and is totally bewildered when a giant hand encompasses his own in a firm, but soft and friendly shake, accompanied by a smile. A beautiful smile with a cute little dimple that Louis nearly missed because he was too busy starring at Harry's _massive fucking hands._

"Nice to meet you Louis."

And Louis thanked whatever gods there were that he had been an idiot and left his curtains open one crummy Sunday night and woke up just a bit too early on a stupid Monday morning.

 

❀

 

**Monday 11/10/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

 

It's been a week (not that Louis' counting or paying attention or anything stupid like that) and Louis has figured out this much about Harry from their shared elevator rides in the early mornings and late evenings:

1) He's beautiful.

2) He's very well dressed considering he only has to work at the library. Louis quite likes his loose, flowing, patterned button ups that he definitely doesn't button up all of the way. He also likes the black skinny jeans that he wears because they look like they're _painted_ onto his long legs and they hug his tiny arse really nicely honestly. Not that Louis noticed his cute, tiny arse, or even noticed that it was cute at all. He definitely isn't staring when Harry leaves the elevator first. ...Shut up.

3) He gelled his hair back on Friday and wow oh wow is that a nice look. Louis can't decide if he likes it gelled or loose and long better. He looks really pretty either way.

4) He's cheery even on a Monday morning.

5) Actually every morning he's quite cheery and as a result, Louis tends to be a bit more cheery. Who can blame him?

6) He works only a block from the apartment building in the opposite direction as Louis' work (so if Louis were to _hypothetically_ go to visit Harry at work it would only be about a 25 minute walk from his office. Which he could do during his lunch breaks on days where he has to work longer. Hypothetically).

7) Louis really missed him over the weekend; how _pathetic_ is that?

8) Harry loves scarves... sometimes in his hair. Louis loves it too.

9) He has tattoos - the chest ones are especially lovely. They're possibly sparrows? maybe swallows? Louis hopes they're swallows.

10) One of the aforementioned birds on his collarbones is tinier than the other and Louis doesn't like to think too much about it.

11) Harry is two years younger than Louis and had gone to Uni in Manchester (really bright kid - studied law _and_ business).

12) Harry just moved to the states about a month ago after graduating Uni and getting a full time job at Mrs. Witherspoon's (who he adores and actually starts to glow when talking about her or his work).

13) Louis is very much screwed (and well he wishes he was literally and physically because... well... Harry's _hands_ )

 

❀

 

Now that Louis' article is published and everyone is finished with their assignments for this issue, Louis doesn't have to run around the office making last minute preparations with Liam to fix other peoples' articles before publication (always on Sunday) which means he can get home at a normal time.

He's back to his every day routine of writing his own story at his desk sneakily, helping other people by editing their articles when needed, helping Liam figure out what to write about the next week, and ultimately lazing around and teasing his best mate Zayn for the heart eyes he throws at Liam whenever he's around.

It's only 5:30 now, an hour earlier than he normally chooses to leave, but he was extra productive and Liam is generous enough to let Louis fuck off whenever he wants to (at or after 5:15 that is), so Louis takes this as an opportunity to pack up whatever it is he's been doing (really that wasn't his story at all what even was that other than word vomit?) and leave for the day.

 

❀

 

"Whoa, Harry, mate! Do you need a hand?"

Louis rushes forward as Harry haphazardly holds three giant fabric bags filled to the brims each with groceries. He was trying to reach for the elevator button, but if he leaned over ever so minutely more, Harry would have lost the majority of his meal for the night.. or maybe week.

Harry peeks his head up over the bag a bit and smiles immediately when spotting Louis. He's carrying three massive bags of groceries, nearly killing himself to press the elevator button, can barely see over the fucking bags, and he _still_ manages to fucking smile at Louis. Louis is so fucking _endeared_ and if his cheeks ache with the smile he's adorning as he gets closer to Harry, well, sue him. Harry hands over a bag without much hesitation and uses the new access to his arms to attempt at sweeping his hair out of his face. He left it out today and it looks excessively flowy and curly and _beautiful_. He fails and really only makes the mess of his hair worse. He looks up cross-eyed with a huff and Louis laughs before hesitantly reaching out and brushing the curls aside from his eyes and tucking them behind his ear.

It's way too intimate and Louis thinks he might explode.

Moving on quickly, Louis turns and presses the elevator button, hoping the pinkish tint to his cheeks isn't noticeable before turning back to Harry. Fuck.

"Throwing a party or summat? Lots of food mate."

"No, uh, I'm just cooking tonight for um, myself and Niall. Haven't had time to in a while so I took my normal time off work to my advantage and decided to go shopping."

Who the fuck is Niall.

"You cook?"

The elevator starts to move up and Louis watches as Harry nods and the curls he tucked behind Harry's ear pop out and fall to his cheek again.

"That's awesome."

With a blush spreading over Harry's cheeks, he tips his head down towards the bags and mumbles out, "I mean I'm not a chef or anything, I just like cooking s'all."

"No, shut it, I bet you're a great cook. Well, I mean anyone is compared to me I guess. I'm twenty-three god damn years old and I can barely make pot noodles correctly." It's true. Louis really is a shit cook for the most part.

Harry laughs and steps out as the doors open again. Louis walks beside Harry to his apartment.

"I just got lucky I guess," he smirks proudly, and Louis was fucking right he is a good cook and he god damn well knows it. Harry just turns to face Louis and smiles, "I spent a lot of time cooking with my mum back home honestly... got used to always helping out with dinner and baking. Anyways, thank you!"

Louis hands over the bag again and their fingers brush against each other.

And no, that definitely doesn't send a spark down Louis' spine and it definitely doesn't leave him with the traces of a smile the rest of the evening either. He's not some hormonal college (or I guess high school in the states) student anymore. Really.

So no, Louis definitely isn't smiling like a goofy idiot, and he's especially not smiling like a teenager in love when Louis fucks up his pot noodles for dinner. Fucking pot noodles.

 

❀

 

**Tuesday 11/11/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

 

The next morning Louis wakes up and finds a small Tupperware container filled with food that Louis practically salivates over. On the top is a sticky-note with a messy, chicken scratch type scrawl, but some cute loopy looking letters, that says, "in case you don't feel like eating ruined pot noodles. x -H."

Louis feels woozy.

 

❀

 

Later that afternoon, Louis is sat in his cubicle, spinning on his chair pondering an issue that has plagued him since his conversation with Harry in the elevator the previous evening.

Who the _fuck_ is Niall.

"Hey boo? What the hell are you daydreaming about now you tit? Get to work. You know Liam wants your article ready for print by 12:30, and well it's almost noon."

Louis looks at his papers, haphazardly skewed across his desk. Finished, but not at all organized yet. He shrugs and spins to face Zayn, looking all but devastated.

"Z? What if Niall is his _boyfriend_?"

The word boyfriend physically pains him inside, but he chooses to ignore that. Louis isn't crushing on Harry. They're barely even friends. Strangers really.

Zayn looks confused a moment, but he barely lets it show and sits on the edge of Louis' tabletop.

"Elevator boy?"

"Harry."

"Right, right. Harry. Darling Harry with the curly brown hair and the big hands and the green beyond belief eyes, Zayn _really_ you don't understand just how _green_ they are. Harry." He pretends to swoon and if it weren't even slightly accurate, Louis would laugh. But it's so close to being entirely accurate that Louis just can't. 

Louis' pining, he knows that's what this all is, but he won't admit it.

"Oh stuff it Z. I'm serious."

"You're an idiot is what you are mate. Organize your damn article."

Louis glances at the messy "stack" of papers again and pouts unfairly as Zayn huffs out a laugh and walks off.

Louis really is an idiot. A pining idiot.

 

❀

 

**Tuesday 11/18/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

 

A week of "hi!" _"hey!"_ "how are you?" _"great how are you?"_ "good!" _"how's the library?"_ "great! Business has been good lately! Any new articles?" _"yeah, front cover again!_ " "that's amazing!" _"thanks!"_ in the mornings, and exchanges of _"out for a run again?"_ "yeah, trying to stay active!" _"wish I had that motivation. Also those neon trainers. They're bold."_ "thank you!" _"I was teasing young Harry"_ "shut up Louis" or _"let me help you with those groceries"_ "thanks!" _"Jesus what did you buy Harry?"_ "just stuff to make dinner tonight?" _"for who? Yourself or the fucking entire state of New York?"_ "shut up Louis" (Harry real likes saying 'shut up Louis' but it's fond so Louis allows it) passes and Louis is officially, and utterly infatuated and it's _bad_. So bad that Louis doesn't even realize just how bad it has gotten and it's quite pathetic really.

But that doesn't stop Louis from waking up early each morning, or sacrificing the warmth of his apartment to make the earlier trek that includes a small pit stop at the coffee shop (which he wishes was the bakery where Harry worked, really he does). It's quite worth everything in his opinion. Louis loves Harry's company in the entire three minutes of elevator rides up and down each day. They're nice.

You see, it's a _thing_ now for them, but they don't even realize it. A constant routine of meeting up at the elevator in the mornings, talking about whatever comes to mind so god forsaken early in the morning and then repeating the routine again at night with the bonus of groceries (which means amazing, mouth watering leftovers at Louis' door the next morning) or a sweaty Harry in blinding neon sneakers that remind Louis of a highlighter.

It's a thing and even if neither realize it, they appreciate every morning and evening they get to see each other.

And this morning is no different than the others when Louis leaps into the open elevator doors, shocking Harry, who was already standing and waiting inside, arm against the doors, into a small jump and loud gasp. Yeah, he holds the door open for a while now if Louis' running a bit late. It's nice. And _really_ cute. It's a thing.

"Guess what Harry?"

As Harry recomposes himself, he lets out a small giggle.

"What Lou?"

Louis doesn't want to think about Harry giggling _or_ Harry using a nickname. Not now.

"Guess!"

"Uh.. your article got front cover again?"

"Always that love. If it was that, I wouldn't be so excited! Guess again!"

"Uh.. is it tha-"

"It's finally Friday, Harold!"

"It's Tuesday."

"What the fuck."

"And my name isn't Harold."

"What the fuck."

"Shut up Louis."

 

❀

 

**Thursday 11/27/14 ✧*:･ﾟ  Thanksgiving.**

 

It's Thanksgiving and Louis really doesn't like this holiday. Well, he does, because food, but he also really doesn't because, well, he's British for God's sake. This holiday is all about the Pilgrims settling in America which mind you, was horrible for the Native Americans. Louis had to do a research paper on it in his history class and he despises Christopher Columbus and he despises the way the people of America treated Native Americans throughout history, especially after they helped the damned Pilgrims with this fucking holiday to begin with and well, it's just wrong. Even if there is amazing food involved. 

Anyways, Louis should maybe be a little thankful even if he despises this holiday because this means he has off from work. Of course, that's not exactly helpful since Louis can't actually cook for his life, so his family isn't visiting from Doncaster, he can't make fucking pot noodles let alone a turkey with mashed potatoes (which he can actually make with help) or stuffing or vegetables or _anything_. The only food Louis can make is soup, which he used to make for his sisters when they were sick, toast, cereal, and... well that's about it. And usually, Louis burns his toast. So what's the point of his day off really?

Zayn is planning on coming over later and they'll probably order Chinese food or something later, but Louis really isn't sure what he's going to do for the rest of the day. 

He decides to stop pouting and get his arse up and out of bed and maybe head to the grocery store. So he throws on a pair of grey joggers, a black t-shirt, a red, black, and blue Adidas windbreaker jacket and a big, dark grey beanie and heads out.

 

❀

 

Louis' an idiot. It's cold first of all and he should have grabbed a heavier jacket. Second of all, why did he think going to the grocery store on Thanks-fucking-giving was a good idea? It's _mobbed_. Louis barely makes it past the entrance before turning around and fleeing for his life. 

Now what.

Since he's already out, he decides to wander around the town a bit (despite him freezing his arse off). But the cold gets a bit unbearable after another couple of minutes, and luckily, Louis spots the old chalk board outside the bookstore that reads a different saying every couple of weeks, or at least it used to when Louis was in Uni. He smiles at the message this week: "Need to get away from the crazy relatives? Instead of stuffing the turkey, stuff your imagination with wild adventures! Gobble up our stories and you won't be disappointed!" Beneath it was a silly sketch of a turkey reading a book, that looked like nothing more than a traced hand with little doodles to make it "close enough" to a turkey. The doodle and the stupid puns were enough to pull a giant smile onto his face.

Louis opened the door and smiled as the bell chimed above his head. The memories of the place came flooding back when he spotted the giant chairs in the middle of the store surrounded by shelf after shelf of books that he used to lose himself in. The store was always tiny, but it's cozy and almost like a second home to him. He walks through the shelves like he remembered doing a few years back and ends up by the employee "hangout." Sitting there, reading a book is Mrs. Witherspoon and a young, blonde lad. 

"Louis? Darling is that you?"

Louis just shoots a beaming grin as Mrs. Witherspoon stands up from her chair slowly, her mouth gaping a bit, but quirking up at the corners with a smile. 

"Oh don't walk over here, I'm coming. Hi doll."

Louis pulls her into a warm hug and smiles so wide he thinks his cheeks might split. 

"What on Earth are you doing here sweetheart? I haven't seen you in a while!"

Louis shrugs a bit sheepishly, feeling guilty.

"I've been working really hard. After graduation I got a job working for the New York Times and well, I've been writing articles for them. I don't know if you remember my hatred for Thanksgiving after I wrote that research paper, but well, I decided to go for a walk and stop sulking and ended up here... habit I guess."

"Your happy place, you once called it."

Louis nods slowly and Mrs. Witherspoon continues, "Well darling welcome back! Are you still writing your own stories? You have to come in more often! Show me what pieces you're working on. I always loved reading your stories."

She perches back down in her chair and gestures to one of the empty chairs placed between herself and the blonde boy. He smiles as Louis sits next to him.

Louis reaches a hand out and smiles warmly introducing himself. The boy takes his hand and smiles back with an undeniable glow of happiness, and introduces himself as Niall.

Niall.

Louis realizes in a rush that he had completely forgotten Harry worked here. Harry fucking worked here. And this was Niall. Fucking Niall. 

As soon as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks, he heard someone singing, "I never knew, just what it was, about this old coffee shop I loved so much. All of the while, I never knew. All of the while, I never knew - it was -"

Louis looked up as the voice came closer and just stopped.

"Lou."

And as if Louis wasn't already gone enough for the stupid boy Louis met at the elevator, he just had to know he could sing too. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Louis just sort of stared for a bit before smiling. "Hey Harry. You're, um, really talented. Like really, really good."

Harry blushes and looks frantically at blondie - Niall - and then at Mrs. Witherspoon.

"Oh my, Nialler. Looks like these two boys know each other if the blushes on their faces are anything to go by."

Both Louis and Harry snap their heads towards Mrs. Witherspoon and grumble, "Mrs. Witherspoon!"

 

❀

 

Hours later and Louis was still sat in the bookshop with Mrs. Witherspoon, Niall, and of course, Harry.

Harry who he had already been slightly infatuated with.

Harry who he just heard singing a love song (one of Louis' favorite love songs) in the most beautiful voice Louis thinks he's ever heard.

Harry who he just had the longest conversation with since meeting him. 

Harry who he definitely, definitely felt something for.

Louis had already been screwed. But now? Now, Louis was _really_ screwed, but also like, really fucking endeared because Harry was even lovelier than he had imagined. After spending time with the three, Louis had learned that Harry was extremely passionate about books, and writing (but not writing like Louis writing, which Harry was really impressed by, but writing like song lyrics and journal entries), and singing. He was also really funny, although in a dorky, almost embarrassing way, what with all his puns (which yes, the turkey puns on the sign had been his idea and Harry laughed at his own joke for another few minutes until Niall punched him in the arm lightly calling him a goofy twit), but still adorable and fun to be around nonetheless. Louis also realized that he couldn't hate "fucking Niall" because well, Niall was really nice and really funny and he laughed at all of Louis' jokes until Louis was sure he wasn't breathing and he was also just really fun to be with and well, he had a girlfriend. Which I guess helped Louis like him a bit more.

When talking about Niall and Barbara, Mrs. Witherspoon asked Louis if he had found a serious boyfriend yet, which Louis had mentioned wanting after his last breakup back in Uni, and well that was how Louis came out to Harry.

Then when he replied that, no he was in fact still single, she smiled and said, Harry was sans boyfriend too and that was how Harry came out to Louis.

Louis was so incredibly screwed.

 

❀

 

**Tuesday 12/9/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

 

It had been about a week and a half since the bookstore run-in (which Louis still can't believe he fucking forgot about Harry working there... damn him) and he and Harry had only talked via elevator rides since, but they were a lot more comfortable with each other which was really nice. Sure, Louis missed the ability to have long conversations with Harry, but with going back to work it hadn't been easy. After essentially coming out to each other, Mrs. Witherspoon had said she had to head home to her family for dinner, forced Louis to promise to come back on weekends when he could, and left Niall, Harry, and Louis alone for the evening. Louis had nearly forgotten about Zayn coming over until he got his text asking if he should meet him in Louis' flat, or if he should wait outside so they could go out and find something open. Louis cursed under his breath, managed out a "Shit, fuck Zayn is waiting for me I totally forgot I'm sorry! I have to go meet him at the flat. I'll see you later young Harold? Nice meeting you Niall, you're a good laugh. Really enjoyed this, shit sorry, I can't keep him waiting he'll kill me, bye!" and had run out the door. Idiot.

Anyways, the conversations were now limited to the elevators, but they felt more open and relaxed. Harry would ask if Louis was writing any new stories and asked whether he could read them or something. Louis would tell Harry about open mic nights at pubs nearby and Harry would just shake his head and blush mentioning that "he wasn't to fond of being on stage" which Louis found ridiculous.

It was nice. They were becoming friends.

And Louis was more screwed than ever.

 

❀

 

**Wednesday 12/17/14 ✧*:･ﾟ**

 

Louis is really worried.  Louis has pressed the elevator button three times to keep it open for Harry and well, still no Harry. See, it's not like Harry to just not show up without telling Louis beforehand because he always tells Louis when he won't be there in the mornings - like one time Harry had a dentist appointment and was going to sleep in, and another time the bookstore was closed for some simple renovations and he wasn't going to be on the elevator in the morning or evening. Louis doesn't remember when it started, but Louis and Harry always tell each other when they won't be on the elevator the day before so that the other isn't left waiting for them like Louis is now. Waiting. Louis never has to wait like this.

It's 7:54, and that's around 34 minutes later than the normal time Harry would come out, and nearly 20 minutes later than Harry would ever be if he were running late (which had happened one particularly rainy day that Harry had admitted to wanting to spend in bed cuddled under the covers with a cuppa which left Louis in a state of hysteria for the rest of the day just imagining spending a day with Harry like _that)_. Louis knows he can still make it to the office in time if he just leaves now, because his old routine was leaving around 8, but Louis has this twisting feeling in his gut and he's worried, worried, worried and he doesn't want to leave without at least checking on Harry. 

So that's what Louis decides to do - he'll check on Harry. Just to make sure he isn't late for work. That's a reasonable excuse... Right?

Louis is really worried.

He walks down the hall and stands outside room 112 and just stares at the small numbers on the door. Just checking. Just making sure. Reasonable. 

He paces outside the door a bit, looks down at his phone to see it's 8:03 and he's really pushing his luck, so he raises his arm and knocks on the door with a mostly steady hand and waits. 

And he waits. 

Louis panics - panics about Harry's well being, panics about looking like a total knob, panics about being late to work for being a total knob and then having to explain his fucking knob-iness to both Zayn and Liam. Fuck, fuck fuck. Except, just before Louis tries to take a step back, the door opens and there stands Harry. 

Harry whose hair is sticking up in all directions except for the front bits which are sticking to his sweat damp forehead and whose paler than a ghost with the exception of his very, rosy cheeks. His eyes are blinking rapidly and trying to stay open and his nose is irritated and red as he continues to sniff pathetically. But stupid, stupid, stupid sick Harry just notices Louis standing at his door _like a knob_ and breaks into a huge smile, before breaking into a coughing fit. Stupid sick Harry.

 "Louis! Sorry, hi, what're you doing here?"

His voice is scratchy and he sounds slightly nasally and stuffed up and Louis immediately feels the urge to wrap his arms around his waist and pull him into a hug and baby him. 

"Oh my gosh, are you alright? I, uh, I mean... I was waiting at the elevator - thought you might have um, slept in? So, I wanted to check on you. You know, make sure you didn't, uh, sleep in? Are you _okay?_ "

Harry had started coughing again as Louis spoke, but as soon as he stops, he just smiles and mumbles out a, "shut up Louis."

"Don't tell me to shut up, I'm worried about you young Harold."

And fuck Louis really didn't mean to _tell_ Harry he was worried. Fuck.

But stupid sick Harry just smiles even brighter and looks ready to burst from the light shining in his eyes and it's so incredibly endearing. Stupid sick Harry.

"Just sick," he pauses and sniffs before adding, "it's cute that you came to check on me. But I'm fine. Really."

Except, as Harry tells Louis that _'he's fine. really,'_ he starts to sway a bit on his feet and he sniffs more and more before beginning yet another coughing fit, and that's really the last straw for Louis.

"Yeah, right. 'I'm fine' my ass Harold, you're practically dying for all I know - I mean, that's what it seems like anyways. Get inside. I'm taking care of you today."

And the thoughts hadn't really processed in his mind until he babbled them out, but he can't very well just take them back now, so he stands with his decision, but adds on a feeble, "That is... if you're okay with that?" 

Harry nods - not reluctantly, but almost petulantly, but he's also obviously trying to bite back a grin, and well, that's all the confirmation Louis really needs.

Harry sniffles and coughs into his elbow, before smiling again and letting Louis follow him inside to his rather lovely apartment.

Louis' apartment is actually rather well decorated considering how unorganized he tends to be, what with his soft, but posh furniture that compliments the walls and the other decor, and his lack of organization only tends to show in the scattered mail across the coffee table in his living room, the unfolded blankets tossed on the back of his couch, the messy clothes strewn about his bedroom floor and the clean closes stacked in a pile beside the closet (only really folded because Zayn does it for him while muttering how fucking annoying and slobby Louis is and Louis really can't object, so he just cuddles into his side as he folds the laundry and thanks him repeatedly).

Looking at Harry's home, it's like an entirely new world even with the exact same layout as his own flat. Harry's looks more like a home, and it's shown through the pictures of what Louis assumes to be Harry's family hung on the walls, the worn in couch with tattered cushions (with what looks like incredibly faded stains from foods and drinks), the books - many of them with bookmarks somewhere hidden in the pages stacked on the coffee table, but well organized.  And that's another difference - his apartment, unlike Louis' is organized. It's clean and everything seems to have found its own home and will stay there until removed, but then promptly returned in order to leave the flat in an uncanny sense of "organized homey vibes" as Louis likes to put it. It makes him smile. It's just so Harry.

Louis walks behind Harry into the living room and notices the heap of blankets where Harry had probably been lying only minutes before and just nods his head to which Harry responds with a big sigh of relief and plops back down into the corner of the couch, snuggling his way back into the crook between the back and the arm of the sofa, and pulling the blankets up to his chin, looking as if he's all ready to doze off again. 

And only after one last sigh, a soft smile sent in Louis' vague direction, and a murmured "thank you," he dozes off.  

Louis calls Zayn and tells him to tell Liam, that there is no chance in hell that he is coming in today because of an emergency. He thinks taking care of a very sick and very sleepy Harry can count as an emergency. 

❀

"mfgh, Louis?"

Louis spins around in surprise and spots Harry leaning against the door frame with sleepy eyes, mussed up hair, and a slightly less, but still very pink, nose. 

"Shit, did I wake you? I didn't mean to, god fuck, damn it. I was trying so hard to not make any noise to wake you up and then the damn door slammed shut. God, I'm sorry, go back to sleep Haz, really, I'm sorry. So sor-"

"Shut up Louis," he cuts off with a smile, but then he steps a bit further into the kitchen and Louis watches the way he tugs at the blanket wrapped around his shoulders to even further wrap himself up, into almost a cocoon of sorts. Louis is so endeared that he kind of wants to cry. A _lot_. "What're you doing, Lou?"

Louis smiles softly and turns to look at his growing mess, and tries (and fails) to hide the fact that he probably has stupid floating hearts hovering over his head every time he so much as glances in Harry's direction. 

"Remember how I said I can't cook to save my life? Like so bad that I can't even make pot noodles?" 

"Of course, why do you think I leave you left overs so often?"

Louis smiles and nods, "right, yeah, of course. Which, thank you by the way those leftovers are absolutely incredible I'm in love," (with you, he thinks). "Well anyways, I did forget to mention that the one thing I can make is an incredible homemade soup... I used to make it for my sisters when they were sick and my mum was at work... which was often with her night shifts accompanied by long days at work and well, you've been asleep for like three hours and I was feeling rather creepy just sitting in your living room watching you sleep, so I had my mate drop off the ingredients and once he did, I tried to find the cooking supplies - utensils? - I needed and well, you have so much stuff, I really have no idea what half of it is, and I finally found what I needed - a fucking spoon Harry, why did you hide the spoons there? Honestly, what is wrong with you? - and then the cabinet slammed shut and I tried to stop it, but well... I'm rambling. Sorry."

Louis cuts himself off and looks down at his socks, black with little dots of whiteish grey, and watches as his feet shuffle awkwardly. 

When Louis looks up again, it's to a face so fond that he can't find it in himself to believe that the look is actually directed at him. That _Harry_ is directing that look at _him._ _Holy crap._

Suddenly, a pair of gangly arms are wrapped around his neck, ensnaring him in the blanket cocoon, and pressing him into Harry's (overly) warm body, and a head is resting on his shoulder where he can feel the soft sniffles and the deep breaths against his neck and his mind is a mantra of _oh my god fuck... oh my god oh my god oh my god... fuck fuck fuck... Harry is hugging me what the fuck... oh my god Harry... hugging... me... hugging... oh my god fuck_ but he wraps his arms around Harry's waist and prays he doesn't actually have to let go. 

He does.

"You're amazing, Lou. Thank you."

"You haven't even tried the soup yet Harold what if it's awful and you end up feeling worse or it ends up being poisoned. You never know. Maybe this was my plan all along and I'm really taking care of you while you're weak so I can finish you off."

"Shut up Louis."

For once, Louis totally agrees.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good."

"P.S. I'm lying. I wouldn't ever kill you... I like your smile too much. Also, my soup is kind of amazing, so I lied there too."

"Louis?"

"Harold?"

"Shut up."

"Right. Yeah. Got it. I'll go make you some soup."

(Louis might mutter 'which is actually amazing' which might lead Harry to shove Louis away and towards the counter before he decides to sit down. And Harry might sit there all wrapped up in his adorable blanket and being all adorably sick and sniffly where he decides to stay and keep Louis company while Louis makes him his soup. Harry also might compliment Louis' socks, then tease him for the fact that he calls them his speckle socks for the remaining cooking time. Whatever it is, it's nice. Louis quite likes sick Harry.)

❀

It's nearly 8 at night, and Louis is still with Harry in his flat. 

After making soup, and then having Harry eat the soup (which he admitted to being amazing), Harry napped for a while longer. 

After waking up, Louis made him tea and gave him some crackers, but Harry ended up just falling asleep again.

After waking up again, Louis put in _Grease_ (which Louis was totally over the moon to find out that Harry loved the film just as much as he did) and serenaded Harry for every song that came on. Louis already loved all the songs, and would have sang along no matter what, but sick Harry's beaming smile as he drifted off to sleep again at the end was a total bonus.

After waking up again (again), Harry made Louis put in his favorite movie - Love Actually - and that's where they're left off now. With Louis in the corner of the couch, with a very content and decidedly much better feeling Harry tucked into his side, resting his head against his chest and his hands against Louis' thigh. The blankets (three of them - stupid sick Harry) are covering the two of them from below where Harry's head is resting on Louis' chest to their intertwined legs and Louis can't even begin to fathom what has happened today, but he can't quite complain since it lead him to _this_ moment.

As the movie ends and the movie fades into the credits, Harry shuffles closer into Louis' chest and mumbles something about how excellent that movie is no matter how many times he sees it, and really Louis hadn't thought it was possible to be more endeared, but he was proven wrong, _yet again_. 

"You're such a sap Hazza, that movie is so sappy. Are you always this sappy, or is it just your being sick?"

Harry giggles softly before snuggling in more.

"I'm always a sap, but I think you're a sap too you know. Mr. walking-contradiction."

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?"

Louis nudges Harry, but when Harry only huffs out a laugh and nuzzles himself into Louis again, Louis can't help but lace his free hand, previously laying on Harry's waist, into Harry's soft curls and scratching gently at his scalp.

"Oh come on, you know what I mean Louis. You're Mr. "I'm a super successful newspaper writer who uses hardcore facts to argue things, but I'm also an aspiring author who seeks to write romance books that have more plot and more substantial side plots to be more romantic and readily able to be related to by my readers than those stupid _Twilight_ books or shit like that (your direct quote Louis, don't give me that look, you said that!). And on top of that, you're tough and goofy and flirty, but when it comes down to it, you'd call in to take a day off to watch after your sick neighbor who you only ever talk to in the lift. You're a romantic sap and you know it."

"Shut up, Harry."

"Hey! That's my line. You can't very well steal my line."

Louis just laughs and places his head on top of Harry's, his nose pressing into the curls that smell of vanilla and musk. He desperately wants to place a soft peck there too, but that might be pushing it. Louis isn't a sap.

"I'm not complaining you know, Louis, I hope you know that I appreciated today. I quite like getting to spend this much time with you and seeing you in an environment like this. I mean like, when else will I ever get to see your speckle socks and try your special amazing soup? I don't get to see enough of you, or spend as much time as I would like in a two minute elevator ride. I, um, actually, well, I was thinking that, uh, maybe we could do something like this again, or maybe, like, more often? If you want. I mean, I would, um, I would like to."

"I quite enjoyed today too Harry," Louis mumbles into his hair before pulling back and leaning back against the couch with a smile so radiant you could probably see it from space, "and I would love to do something like this more often love. I would like it too, but maybe less sick Harry. I can't very well kiss you without risking possible death. You're a health hazard. I can't even believe I risked an entire day camped out in your flat while you're like this."

Harry sits up and turns to Louis with a smile just as radiant as his own, and murmurs, "Kiss?"

"Well, _maybe_ more than just kissing, but is that really all that you got out of my rant Harold? I just told you I risked _death_ spending my day with you, and all you have to say is 'Kiss?' How rude, Hazza."

"Guess what I'm about to say Louis. Just guess."

Louis smirks and presses a kiss to Harry's forehead before nodding and, in a voice mocking Harry's, sighs, " _Shut up, Louis._ "

**Author's Note:**

> what the heck, i'm so sorry how are you supposed to end stories? i don't understand? i hate writing.,, so complicated. gaaaaaah. sorry.
> 
> anyways, hi! okay, so yeah, that was my first story... inspired by the lovely prompt by Sophie... i hope you enjoyed it! comments / feedback + kudos would be greatly appreciated! ( ◕ ◡ ◕ ♥) ps i like fic prompts so if you have others and liked this thing please give me something that could be fun {but be patient, unless you're willing to hound me to write because i get very frustrated... as i said before: gaaaaaaaah.}
> 
> find me on twitter [@sockslwt](http://twitter.com/sockslwt)  
> find me on tumblr [feelingblue](http://feelinqblue.tumblr.com) (not a fan account sorry!)


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